Prologue

Dark hum behind rose fire.
An eye, awake and unafraid of blur.
The world narrows to a single breath —
and still, it glows.

Body I

Law one: Shadow is just color holding its breath.
Law two: What you hide becomes radiant.
Law three: Eyes remember what lines forget.

I lean into the soft geometry of your silence.
Each pink layer hums a quiet revolt.
I am drawn, erased, redrawn —
a snout between two heartbeats.
The graphite trembles, unsure whether it’s truth or outline.

Body II

Magenta asks: “Am I wound or warmth?”
Grey answers: “Both, until looked at.”
And so they remain —
a duet of hesitation.

DADA Break

blink–ink–pink–think
schweigen oink nacht

Closing

Light bends once more around the unseen.
The page exhales its ache.
Tomorrow — the other half of the snout may dream.